grace
not of god
but a man in a dress and heels
tall, built and black
"be comfortable, be what you want to be
i do women too
you are cute aren't you
it's the eyes
but you knew that,
obviously
gay or straight, sugar?"
*flattered*
is grace god?
such wise, weird words
and we all know god works
in weird ways
I don't think grace is god,
but the beauty:
grace knows god loves her
or she just doesn't care
like if the clack of the rachet stops
like the lynch minded mob
and starts to turn, twist, stifle, laugh and stare
she'll just grease up and spank the plummer
i'm sure
*** ***
there is no battle as it seems the assholes have
either softened up or moved on to professional sports
and there is no medium because the stage is owned
by the guy who signs your check
not the guy who gets a check if you're in your
seat
the world, of course, could give a fuck
like a shattered magnifying glass my mind
tries to focus on why i want to be
different
an aching for birthing expression into the ether
does art like the void?
i sincerely doubt that it does
but it feels like i've had too much fibre
from bowls and bowls of breakfast cereal for dinner
and in the morning it's as if your ass is a cannon
yearning to give reprossessed apple jax to the
toilet bowl
you see the parallell i'm drawing here
you also may see that my aim is not exactly understatement
i'd like to think, somehow, that it is best to live in
a world, kinda by yourself
at least in your head
and live accordingly
but i somehow seem to yearn for an impossible equalibrium
between validation and opposition
to lend some sort of credence to this fibre induced, ether loving shit beast i seem to have devoted my life to
it's all too clear that a lonely head would lead to
a dry pen
i want to ixpress myself to someone
and i want them to care enough to respond
because then, then i've given them something
and in a tiny way that is wholey theirs
like the world through 3-D glasses
they are me
and that is a beautiful thing
but, who's listening?
*** ***
"are you a cop?"

"the cops are sending white boys in skirts to sniff leads?"

"you'd be surprised
y'know it's not even always about sex for me
it more about....
it's more about the fantasy for me
some of the guys i'm with cum before i even touch them
i build such elaborate and sensual fantasies
i like oral a lot"

"so it's not always about hot monkey sex... that's cool"

"hot monkey sex huh? ... that's a new one.
no, it's not usually about monkey sex... though,
that's not a bad thing... is it? to just let loose and let
passion flow
whatever feels right, that's what's important."

she seemed dissapointed when i said i had to go
she wanted to fuck me and seemed to have gotten the impression that i was down... though i answered
her first question with the latter answer
she blew me a kiss as i turned and walked away
i thought to myself: damn! that's art.

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